The Living Dream
by Rena Cresten
Summary: Two hundred years ago her king vanished and Neo-Queen Serenity has lived in her dreams ever since. One night her dream is real, and her king returns. Can she save her kingdom and solve the mystery before its too late?
1. Chapter 1

This is a story I wrote a couple years ago. But I still like it, a lot. And the response I got from it was great. So I thought I would post it here, just to see. Please, read and review. I live for it!  
  
The Living Dream  
  
By Rena Cresten  
  
Chapter 1  
  
Rated: PG  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.  
  
******************  
  
It had been months since ...  
  
No, I reminded myself. It had been years. It had been almost two hundred years since it happened. And yet, even two hundred years later I still held onto the hope that he would come back to me. That I would see him walk through that door and sweep me into his arms. Make love to me slow and long and then hold me all night and through the next day.  
  
Every night I dreamed it. And every morning I woke to find an empty spot beside me on the bed. No warmth there, no smell, nothing to say he had been there. And each morning I would roll out of bed and dress for a day of events that meant nothing to my numb brain. I would sign papers, talk to people, listen to problems and spew out advice, I would walk from here to there, take my normal stroll with Raye and listen to her gush about her husband and children, then go back to signing papers and talking and walking, until it was finally time for me to return to my bed and my dreams.  
  
Like some run on sentence, some endless note of a song (sung off key of course), my day ran past me. Perhaps that was the reason that it seemed only months ago instead of the two centuries that had lapsed by me. Two hundred years, three-hundred-and-sixty-five days in each year, and every hour seemed to not exist in memory. Like a giant hole in my life, two hundred years of nothingness. The only thing I remembered in the empty passing of time were my dreams.  
  
And, as I slunk down again onto my bed, I thanked the higher powers that I still had this. No children, no husband, just dreams. I popped another sleeping pill into my mouth and closed my eyes, waiting patiently for sleep to consume me.  
  
When I had almost given up hope, I saw his face before me. He slunk through my window and watched me a moment to make sure I was awake. Then walked to my bed and ran his fingers through my hair.  
  
Oh, what a dream this one was.  
  
So real.  
  
Too real.  
  
His eyes stared into mine with a longing, as though he hadn't seen me for years. A normal part of my dreams, something I wished for every night. And yet again nothing was a surprise as he leaned in and placed his tender lips against mine. He held me close, whispering words of endearment into my hair. I felt myself relax completely in his embrace and my eyes grew heavy.  
  
I couldn't really register that in dreams you don't sleep, that is because I was sleeping. And soundly at that. No tormenting dreams, no tossing and turning. And I woke in a better mood than I had in the last two hundred years. I rolled over in bed, not really wanting to do anything but stare at the still rising sun. It was so glorious, the colors streaked across the sky in the most brilliant shades.  
  
I almost didn't notice the slight differences in the morning, the smell, the warmth, the indent in the pillow, but I had to notice my open window.  
  
I pulled myself to my feet, wrapping the sheet around my body and rushing to the open balcony. I threw open the doors to view everything around me. I searched the skies for a sign, a sign of what I don't know. Then I realized how high I was and that nobody could get up here, even flying. Not even him.  
  
But my hope was still stirring inside of my heart so I rushed to the rail and stared down. The wind whipped at my golden hair, covering my vision for a moment, until it moved, finally, out of the way. Shock ran through me as I watched a man run off the palace grounds wearing the clothing that my love had worn last night in my dream.  
  
Forgetting my nakedness, I ran out of my room and through the halls toward a side door. Clutching the sheet to my body, ignoring the stares, I ran into the growing morning light. Shouts sprang from behind me, but heeding them was not in my plans.  
  
I took off after him. Mumbling words that seemed to come strait from my mouth instead of my mind. And yet those words, mindless as they may have been, brought some interest towards me from around the gardens. People popped up all over the place, whispering and pointing.  
  
I was close.  
  
I knew I was.  
  
But for a moment it went black and I was forced to struggle. After being dragged back to a spot where nobody was, the blanket was lifted from over my body and I stared into four angry faces. I tried to push past them, to find him again, but they formed a wall. I tried between one of them, then the other. No openings appeared.  
  
Anger.  
  
That's all I felt as I stared at them. They shot words at me. Questions that fell on deaf ears.  
  
Clutching the sheet tighter around me I whirled and stormed out of the gardens and back to my rooms. Brewing up plans for getting back at them.  
  
"How DARE they!!!!!!!!!" I stewed and cursed and threw things. Until finally calming enough to sit on the bed. I held my head in my hands, turning my thoughts from my anger at them to my real problem.  
  
I know I saw him!  
  
But could it be real?  
  
It was then I noticed the rose on the floor beside the bed. Like he knew I would be sitting just like this. Picking up the delicate flower, I noticed the lack of thorns as I raised it to my nose. The smell was heavenly. A smell I had missed so desperately the last two decades. Then it hit me ...  
  
It was real!!!!!!!!!!!!  
  
I practically jumped right through the ceiling. He had been here. He was alive, and he had been here. The wait was over, and he had been here. He had held me all night. I had no need for my dreams anymore.  
  
But why did he leave?  
  
I stopped my joyous celebration to return to my place on the bed and wonder. Why hadn't he stayed? This is his home. He belongs with me. But why leave? Why not stay with me? It didn't make sense. What could have made him leave me again? I know he would stay if he had the choice ...  
  
He didn't have a choice.  
  
Maybe he didn't have a choice.  
  
That brought anger again, and then tears. Who would do such a thing to my prince? To my precious soul, my only love? I cried harder. Whoever did it, certainly wasn't a fair person. Certainly wasn't fair.  
  
Why?  
  
How?  
  
Who?  
  
I fell back on my bed and cried myself to sleep, clutching the sheet to me now more for comfort than protection. 


	2. Chapter 2

This is for those three wonderful people who reviewed the first chapter. I cal tell you this, the story is done. But once you have read the whole thing, you may be up in arms. You'll see. Please, keep reading though. Oh, and keep reviewing too. There are ten chapters, if I can get enough reviews then I'll post the next one. Its one of those cause and effect things.......  
  
The Living Dream  
  
By: Rena Cresten  
  
Chapter 2  
  
Rated: PG  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.  
  
******************  
  
Morning came and went and I didn't move. I watched the sun, the moon, the stars. And listened to people pound on my door, trying to get me to open it. I knew what they were saying. They thought I was finally going crazy. How little I had lived over the last two hundred years had worried them all. They thought that some day I would lose it and finally fall into the oblivion of insanity.  
  
Little did they know I had heard their conversations and they had nothing to worry about. I hadn't the care to live, let alone the care to die. They had talked and whispered when they thought I wasn't near, when they thought I had left the room. The pain from their words was nothing to be compared to the pain that I felt now.  
  
He had come back.  
  
Through pain and death and a world of desolation, he had come back to me. Fought the wane and ebb of two wars, the dividing and reconciliation of nations, the weather and terrain of this world to come back to me. Perhaps that is what took him years. Perhaps it wasn't an outside force after all ...  
  
Weeks after his first visit I came out into my world again. Talking to people, walking from place to place, taking a tension filled stroll with Raye, everything that I use to do. But I saw the world around me. I saw for once what my kingdom had become.  
  
And I was sick.  
  
There was pain and disease, slums where people lived that didn't make enough money to supply themselves. And those slums were full of almost every person in my kingdom. No one could pay, and everyone was unhappy.  
  
My kingdom was unhappy!!!!  
  
I felt the tears in my eyes and blinked them back as I stared out at the darkening scape of Crystal Tokyo. Where there had once been life and laughter, the stench of rot filled the air. I held my stomach tightly and closed my balcony doors with a solid click. Things had gone downhill and weren't getting any better.  
  
I pulled the bathrobe further around me and settled in a chair beside my fire, fingering the floating crystal at my side. I could use it, cleanse all that I had ruined, but I didn't have the strength. Perhaps that was why it fell apart in the first place. Because I hadn't the power to keep it together. And that thought depressed me to no end.  
  
I hadn't even put my hair up for so long that I didn't know if I remembered how. And it certainly hadn't been cut for at least a year or two, probably more like five. In that time it had grown beyond management. I pulled myself up and over to the vanity, brushing my hair in the most soothing way I knew how. It calmed my nerves slightly, but only enough that I could relax my shoulders.  
  
Two hundred years of decay couldn't be healed in five seconds of regeneration. Even in my foggy brain I knew that. I had to do something. And it had to be done fast. But I could only think of the encounter those many weeks ago. And whether or not he could really be alive? My nation, my world was a sham around me and all I could do was hope that my love would come back. As selfish as I felt, somewhere deep down, in a place I forced myself to believe was real, was an unknown reason that I knew was meant for my world.  
  
I set down the brush and stood to examine myself in the mirror beside the vanity. I had lost so much weight it hardly looked like me. My hair was flat, my skin pale. I looked like the walking dead. I almost cried at my appearance, as I had cried at everything else that I had noticed about my life since I 'woke up.' Everything was a mess. A thin curtain hid me inside a tiny world of grandeur that I didn't really deserve.  
  
I left the robe hung over the chair and returned to my bed. And even the soft sheets sliding along my naked body didn't help me feel comfortable with myself. I hadn't dreamt of him since he had come. That left me speechless on the subject. For even when he had been in my arms I had dreamed of him. And while settling into bed, I tried to force at least a glimmer of him into my dreams. Something, anything that I could hold. At least I knew my dreams had some substance, I really didn't know if he was alive or not.  
  
Fear.  
  
Pain.  
  
The unknown had a lot to tell. And though I was a willing listener, I couldn't really understand the words. Like trying to make sense of the wind's song. The whistling and humming, the shrieking and howling, it all had to mean something. It was as if it knew all the secrets but would never tell. That's how I felt about it, as if the news of whether or not he was gone would never reveal itself.  
  
I'm trapped.  
  
That's what I am.  
  
Trapped.  
  
Within a world gone mad, and a home not worth living in. I felt as thought stuck in prison. Even my bed, the comforter keeping the chills of night from reaching me, didn't hold the comfort and freedom it should have. I found no solace in my dreams as I had, for there were none.  
  
I left my bed to lock my door and the balcony door. But on my way back to bed, I heard a sound.  
  
Fear.  
  
It came unbidden and wrapped around me with a force so strong my knees went weak. The handle moved, and I turned to the balcony doors, the doors to the outside world. The handle moved again and then another sound reached my ears.  
  
The lock clicked open.  
  
I fell to my knees, praying that it was only some trick from my friends. Praying that some criminal hadn't actually broken into my room. Then the door opened and my breath caught in my throat.  
  
It had been weeks, seemed like months. And he had come back for another visit. He saw me on the ground, naked, and rushed to my side. He wrapped his arms around me to hide my suddenly shivering body from the cold.  
  
I fell into him with the weakness I felt about everything. Let him carry my like some doll to the bed and cover me up with blankets and his arms. He held me so close it was as if he hadn't left at all. His words soothed me as they had the last time and I felt myself falling into slumber.  
  
But I woke myself abruptly.  
  
He looked at me as though he had failed miserably at soothing me, the one thing he had worked so hard at. I wanted to tell him that I would be fine, that everything would be fine. But he put a finger to my mouth and made me quiet. He spoke so softly in my ear I almost couldn't hear him.  
  
"I'm so sorry my love that I have been gone for so long. I hadn't the means of returning before now." I tried to speak but he hushed me again. "No questions love. Treat it like a dream. Cherish this, these moments. For they shall be rare and short. I cannot explain now dearest heart, but there are too many forces at work. Too many problems that must be solved. But know this my soul, my wife," He pulled me closer to him, running his fingers down my cheek, "that I love you more than my life. And I will come back to you. We will be together again. And some lifetime before us, we shall live without harm. For you my love, I would wait eternity."  
  
I cried, as any good lover would, and he held me to him with a tender embrace that I had missed for what had seemed my entire life. The silence was so comfortable I found myself asleep again in moments. And dreams found their ways into my mind. The world sang, the grass was green, and the city scape of Tokyo was glistening. The dreams I had always wanted stuck in my brain with a fierceness I found comforting.  
  
When I woke he was still there. There was no sun, only the last vestiges of a crescent moon. I turned to him and he hugged me close. It was so warm I had the notion I should fall asleep again. But instead I turned to him and kissed him as fiercely as I could.  
  
Dawn would come soon.  
  
I would lose him again.  
  
Not so quickly this time, I promised myself. We wrapped our arms around each other and held on for dear life. Caresses were shared, moments passed, and we cared little for anything else. But the first rays of the sun came and he pulled reluctantly away. I felt the tears well and grief struck his face.  
  
"I'm so sorry my lover. Till next time sweet soul ..." He garnished a rose and bowed gallantly. I took it with trembling fingers, wishing him to stay with everything I had in me. He leaned in and kissed me once before rushing to the balcony. I watched, dumbfounded, as he stood on the rail and let himself fall with arms outstretched.  
  
Moments passed with no sound, nothing, and fear wrapped around me tighter than it had last night. I pushed myself out of bed and ran to the rail with as much speed as I possessed. I almost went sailing over myself, but the rail was high.  
  
Dejavoo.  
  
I watched him run, hell bent off the palace grounds and into his own war. It was then, when he was out of sight, that I let the tears fall. They fell in torrents. Rushing down my pale face and onto the still exposed skin. Being naked didn't matter to me, all that mattered was that he could never truly be mine.  
  
We've fought so long.  
  
So hard.  
  
Why now?  
  
Everything was perfect ... 


	3. Chapter 3

I know it has been some time since I updated anything. And I am sorry. To make up for it, I am going to upload the next two chapter is this story and I give my word to work on getting the next chapter to "A Rose By Any Other Name" done and uploaded as well. I hope you all like this story so far ... Enjoy ...  
  
The Living Dream  
  
By: Rena Cresten  
  
Chapter 3  
  
Rated: G  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.  
  
******************  
  
Again weeks passed. Only this time unnoticed. I had so much work around me, work that I had put off for two hundred years. No longer did I simply sign papers, I drew them up. I made document after document until my hand could hardly move anymore. Then I had it written by someone else as I dictated. There were so many problems with my kingdom, so many I could fix with a single pen stroke.  
  
I loved that thought.  
  
After all of these years, all of the imprisonment inside myself, I still had as much power as I had had then. Even in the few weeks I had worked on the easy problems, there had been a change in the city. A drastic change.  
  
At night, when I stood on my balcony and stared at the city before me, imagining the world beyond, I could see a difference. There were joyous sounds, faint but there. And lights. Where there had been only darkness, now there was light. A few at first, but as the days passed I saw more and more.  
  
I wasn't the only one coming out of the darkness.  
  
My so called friends could only stare. They gave little if no help to my cause. And I had certainly learned to move on without them. They could talk and plan and do whatever they did in that conference room of theirs, I didn't really care anymore. My kingdom would live and flourish again if I had to work myself to my death bed.  
  
Which many had told me I was doing.  
  
Had I cared, I may have slowed down. But care for myself was, for once, far out of my mind. It was my job, my only hope.  
  
I closed the door behind me and settled comfortably in an overstuffed chair. As little as I had used this room, as much as it haunted me, it was the best place to think. The study held a scent not unlike the depth of intelligence, should it have a scent. The books around me seemed to offer up wisdom that floated through the sunbeams from the high windows.  
  
I leaned back, closing my eyes and willing the thoughts out of my head, the many thoughts that seemed to clutter my consciousness like a torrent, a flood. And when I thought my head would explode, I automatically retreated here. To the one room in this palace that hadn't really been touched by time.  
  
Swinging the chair around I started shuffling through the dusty papers that cluttered his desk.  
  
His desk.  
  
This had been his study. His place of solitude. He had, so many times, run here as I had just done. Run here to get away from all the pressures of life outside. How many times had we snuggled next to that very fireplace, the etched designs something he had done to keep himself busy on his times off. I had laughed at him.  
  
"Why work on your day off?" The angels with their tiny gold wings seemed to echo his answer the way he had once said it.  
  
"So that when I come here during work, it'll feel like a day off."  
  
I hadn't really understood then, but I sure did now. He needed something of his own, something relaxing, something he could cherish of his own doing when he relaxed. The smiles on the angels and the glitter of their little bows and arrows still seemed to sing from around the empty fireplace. So that a fire wasn't really needed to give warmth in ones heart.  
  
I pulled the picture of us off the far side of the desk and curled up into the chair to reminisce. His hair, each strand a sea of nighttime, fell into his eyes just the way I liked it. One of my favorite pictures, this one. We were both so happy. Him in his dingy white T-shirt and paint stained, ripped jeans. Me in my favorite sun dress, the tiny roses all over it and the pale white satin looking regal next to him. I had fought him in that picture, not wanting to get dirty.  
  
He never listened.  
  
He had simply held me close, using his superior strength against me, and had Mina take the picture. My dress had gotten soiled because of that, but we all laughed so hard it didn't really matter. The half done fireplace in the background seemed to sing just as loudly as the finished one did.  
  
He had a way with everything.  
  
Everything he touched became beautiful, everyone he met was better off for knowing him, everything he did was for the greater good and turned out as such. He was the perfect king, the perfect husband, and would have been the perfect father.  
  
Grief.  
  
That thought brought some tears. Couldn't I at least have been blessed enough to have had a child? Something of him left over. Something I could hold on to for the rest of time, unlike I could hold him.  
  
That was nonsense.  
  
He's alive!!  
  
I didn't let myself go down that path, I had done that more than enough. If he came back, then it was real. If he didn't than I must simply have an over active imagination. Even those two roses could have come from anyone.  
  
But they don't wilt.  
  
I pushed myself up from the chair and set the picture back down. I gave another look around the study and walked confidently out into the hall. I still had some more papers to sign. 


	4. Chapter 4

And like I said, the next chapter. This is the one were things start to get wierd, and important things occur. Enjoy ...  
  
The Living Dream  
  
By: Rena Cresten  
  
Chapter 4  
  
Rated: PG  
  
Disclaimers: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.  
  
******************  
  
"Mommy!!!!!" He screamed and screamed. The air pierced with the sound. My heart was ripping at the seams. Watching my only son, my reason for life, like this hurt worse than losing everything else I had ever loved.  
  
I pulled again, trying to reach him. Trying to pull him back to me. But the waves beat intensely against the cliff and the crumbling rocks only gave way more and more. He coughed and his screaming became a little more hoarse. I only tried harder.  
  
I pulled and struggled. I pushed and tugged. Nothing gave way. I couldn't reach him, the bindings were too tight. I struggled again with the knot, my free hand only managing to tighten it.  
  
"MOMMY!!!!!!!!!!" The plea vibrated through my skull with a roar no earthly sound could make. I myself screamed out to him, tearing at the ropes until my hands bled. Then ... all sound from him stopped. Only the waves and the rocks could be heard, a steady rhythm of numb sounds.  
  
I sat upright in bed. Sweating profusely. The dream had been so real. The heartache inside me felt so real. I held a hand to my throat and felt the pounding of my heartbeat. I could still feel the pain in my wrist and fingers from tugging at the ropes. There was still a tightness around my stomach where the ties had held me back. Tears mixed with my sweat and caked the sheets to me even more. Yet the longer I sat there, the less I was able to remember there being any ropes. I could still feel myself being held back, but the sensations of being bound were fading fast.  
  
What does it mean?  
  
I pulled myself out of bed and slipped on my thinnest bathrobe. The hot nights of the summer had made my room balmy and stuffy. It didn't help much with the sweat on my body, but physical discomfort didn't really matter to me.  
  
Why would I dream of a son I don't have? I had to ask myself that with enough intensity to break through the still cloudy sleep of my brain. It hadn't been the kind of dream where you wake up and try without winning to shake the fright off, then make yourself go back to bed and forget about it. It was like reliving a memory. Only I didn't have a memory of this.  
  
The future?  
  
Perhaps. But why now? Why when everything is seeming to come together? When I have made such progress in my life, hit me with something like this?  
  
I watched the twinkling lights of the ever growing city from my high perch. It seemed to just get bigger, as even the outlines of the city received treatment. People were filling the once again useful hospitals, new apartments were being built, new jobs opening up, schools running again. And all this wondrous newness, this rebirth began the night I awoke to the dismal sight before me on this same balcony. It had been only three months since the first time he had come to me, nine weeks since I had seen him last, and I had almost rebuilt my city. My next project would be the world that was in worse shape than even Crystal Tokyo.  
  
The muggy air made the dispersing sweat cling longer than needed, or so I finally noticed. Sliding to the ground against a rail, I stared at the clear sky above me. Thousands of tiny dots of light hit my mind like that of the city. Only there was a peace in those lights that my city didn't hold. One of the best friends I had ever known, Molly, died today. She was a wonderful three-hundred and two. Funny how time seemed to have left so quickly for her after the icy sleep everyone had endured, at least to me. And even if she, with a small group of others, had lost another hundred years within that same sleep by some fluke of mine own, she was still so happy with life.  
  
Maybe we were total opposites.  
  
She had told me that once. We had almost nothing in common anymore but the past. She lived for each day to come, I lived for each day I had missed. Time rushed past me, but dragged past her. She had grown to have children, grandchildren, and even a great-grandchild before she died. While I was still stuck with a dream of my lost husband and the hopeless knowledge that he will never be the father of my children.  
  
I felt like crying again. A hobby I gave up for a while and just recently have taken back up again. But I didn't let the tears fall. My eyes felt suddenly dry. My mouth even more like it was stuffed with cotton. I suddenly wanted to cry desperately, wanted to sob and wail until I was hoarse. But I couldn't.  
  
A noise.  
  
I stood up quickly. Taking a few steps back towards my rooms, our rooms, as I watched him climb silently over the rail. He smiled at me, his eyes dancing. I took another step back without realizing and his smile disappeared into a soft frown.  
  
"What's wrong lover?" His voice again was as soft as a breeze. But there was an unbidden fear in me that I had never felt before. Sure I had been afraid, but it hadn't felt like this. And it had never been because of him.  
  
His frown turned into a glare and he advanced on me like a panther looking for dinner. I wanted to scream, but again my mouth went dry. Or perhaps it had always been dry.  
  
Don't debate.  
  
Run.  
  
I turned and made a mad dash for the door, trying to twist the knob before he could catch me. I wasn't fast enough. Not nearly. I hadn't even reached the door before his arms were around me in a ferocious hug that sucked the air out of me. Any tighter and I knew a rib would crack. I tried to wiggle free, much the same as I had to get my son.  
  
His hot breath howled next to my ear as he spoke.  
  
"You can never escape what your fate will be. Lovers lost, families broken, the fall of an empire. Nothing can be held at bay, for your hand shall bring all prophecies to their climax. You and you alone. Remember that."  
  
I awoke again in a sweat. The railing of the balcony against my back, a cool breeze whipped my hair about me. I grasped at my throat in a semi-calming gesture. My heart was once again beating wildly through my body. My head rang with rushing blood. I tried to catch my breath, put together what really happened.  
  
I dreamed about a son I don't have, came out here, sat down, and what? I must have fallen asleep against the railing and had another nightmare. That must have been it. It had to be a nightmare.  
  
I stood on shaky feet and returned to my bedroom with a weary heart. To have one nightmare was bad enough, but two in one night was odd. Especially back to back like that. I reached for the communicator to dial Amy, but held my hand.  
  
She isn't on my side anymore.  
  
I set the receiver down and instead sat on the edge of the bed to collect my thoughts. I knew something was going to happen. But what, I hadn't the foggiest of an idea. A son who does not exist who will die? A loving husband who warned me in vicious tones? Nothing fit together. Nothing but what he said to me, "You can never escape what your fate will be. Lovers lost, families broken, the fall of an empire. Nothing can be held at bay, for your hand shall bring all prophecies to their climax. You and you alone." And the screaming of my son, that remained fresh as well.  
  
Fear consumed me.  
  
No sleep for tonight. 


	5. Chapter 5

Well, I havent gotten many reviews ... but I still decided to put up the next chapter. I hope you like it. Enjoy ...  
  
The Living Dream  
  
By: Rena Cresten  
  
Chapter 5  
  
Rated: G  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.  
  
******************  
  
Friends.  
  
They called themselves my friends.  
  
I couldn't believe they would ever leave me like this. I felt alone at that moment, staring into the eyes of everyone I had assembled for this meeting of state. When everyone had been seated I began what should have been a normal occurrence. But speaking with these men and women was something I hadn't done for two centuries.  
  
We addressed the growing population problem, the housing problem, the food shortage, the disease control, everything that needed to be done. By the end of the meeting they seemed to have a new found respect for me. I gave a silent sigh of relief when I knew I had their support. The meeting went well, all except for the growing anger inside of me because of their absence.  
  
Again I retreated to my study.  
  
I was now my study.  
  
Mine.  
  
I tried to relax into the chair, but my anger was boiling. I tugged at the crystal on the chain around my neck. I had begun wearing it since it had begun to glow. After two hundred years of nothing, my precious gem began to glow.  
  
I stared at the fireplace, wishing it were as warm in this room as it was in my body so it would feel more natural. A stronger wave of anger than any of the others washed through my body. The crystal shot to life and the fire roared under the mantle. I watched the flame for a while before calming myself down enough to really relax in my chair, rejoicing that at least my powers were returning. Which came to nothing in the long run ... and dispersed as my anger surged again.  
  
How dare they not show.  
  
How dare they leave me like that.  
  
I twisted the crystal one way and then the other, trying to organize my racing thoughts. Nothing made sense in my brain. It was like all of a sudden my mind just gave out.  
  
I closed my eyes and leaned further into the chair, the soft velvet rubbing smoothly against the skin of my open back. When I felt my nerves finally calm and my thoughts rage no more, I again opened my eyes. The angels stared at me with sympathy.  
  
I didn't need their sympathy.  
  
But I welcomed it none the less. I let it flow around me, into me. Let their little eyes soothe my ragged heart. It had been three months since I had last seen my husband. Three weeks since I had had that dream. And I still had to calm myself down each time I went to bed, had to remind myself that it had just been a dream.  
  
It was real.  
  
I sighed in exasperation. I had somehow gotten, along this journey, a second and perhaps third voice in my head. They would argue with me, try to persuade me to think as they wanted, poke and prod at me until I agreed with their beliefs. I had become psycho since I had begun to think again.  
  
I laughed.  
  
Perhaps I had always been crazy. I mean, how many people can go through battle after battle, the end of the world, and the loss of their soul mate and not go crazy?  
  
Certainly not me.  
  
But I had my friends.  
  
Didn't I?  
  
I pulled at another picture that sat on the still paper strewn desk and wiped off the dust. Eyes stared at me, laughter in each. And I felt the pain of grief and loss consume me, eating away at the inside of me with an insatiable hunger.  
  
Wiping at the tears I dusted off the rest of the photo and tried to smile, tried to remember.  
  
"Come on, we haven't taken a picture together for so long!!!!" Mina smiled at us all, waving the camera in front of our faces.  
  
"Yeah, since yesterday." Mina and Raye glared at each other until it was too funny not to laugh at.  
  
"Don't laugh at me ..."  
  
"Oh Mina, your impossible." Darien smiled at her good naturedly, placing his papers aside for a moment. "But I guess it wouldn't hurt if we took a picture. I just got a new frame it would go perfect in."  
  
"Your gonna put it on your desk?" His smile at me was warmer than to anyone else and I felt my heart melt into my feet.  
  
"Where else would it go?"  
  
"Fine, fine. As long as we are all in it I don't really care where it goes." Mina bounced about and placed the camera on a table, setting the timer with only a little help. "I just LOVE taking pictures!!!!"  
  
Amy, Lita, Raye, and Mina all pounced on the couch, knocking it over slightly. The flash went off just as we were all laughing, and a moment before the couch fell over backwards. Leaving a slight dent in the floor and a great memory in all our minds.  
  
I set the picture back down and stared at the angels again. Wondering silently why things changed. Was it the loss of my beloved? Was it my withdrawal the last two hundred years? Or was it something else that pulled us apart.  
  
Curling into a ball I let the tears fall. The laughing eyes in the picture seemed so distant, like a dream inside a frame. Was any of that really real? Did we ever exist like that?  
  
I never heard the knock on the door or the footsteps towards my chair. So when warm arms wrapped around me I was caught totally off guard.  
  
"Lita?"  
  
She didn't answer me, just hugged me closer. A cool sensation spread along my shoulder and I realized she was crying too. That's when I threw my arms around her and hugged her back with all my might.  
  
Maybe it wasn't a dream after all.  
  
When the embrace lessened, I found myself asking the question that had hung on my lips all day.  
  
"Why weren't you there this morning?"  
  
She pulled back as if struck, and her face went pale. I felt bad for asking just because of the scared look in her eyes, but I pressed on for an answer.  
  
"Well?" 


	6. Chapter 6

The Living Dream  
  
By: Rena Cresten  
  
Chapter 6  
  
Rated: PG  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.  
  
**********************  
  
I sat perfectly still for a moment, the breeze playing with my hair in tiny wisps. The city was bright, and music played somewhere in the background. The stars in the skies seemed to twinkle brighter than they had any night since I could remember. The moon was full tonight, though it had barely risen over the horizon, all of its light could hardly be matched by the brilliance of my city.  
  
She couldn't tell me.  
  
I shook my head, the moment ruined. Returning to my world, falling to earth from my fanciful journey through the night. The city still blazed as if on fire, the stars still winked at me, the moon was still just above the horizon, but my room was dark and empty.  
  
She couldn't tell me.  
  
Hadn't I a friend in the world? Couldn't even Lita have stuck by me? Can't I have at least one break in this life?  
  
I blinked back tears that threatened to fall from red rimmed eyes. Nothing that hadn't happened before tonight. But I tried to hold them back, failed, tried again, and succeeded. Tonight would be a night of discoveries. I knew that, even as I pulled on a pair of ragged old blue jeans and a beaten T-shirt.  
  
I had seen this style worn the last time I had been into my city, it had been hidden from me as best as it could. And even as I road about in my carriage and stared at the crowds of happy, healthy people I knew something wasn't right. They had hidden all pain from my eyes, and they had done it very well. But I saw a child, the poor thing stringy and looking beaten, wearing clothes that wouldn't even be called rags. My heart had gone out to her, for as soon as she had noticed herself being watched ... she had run.  
  
Tonight I would truly see my people. Tonight I would truly understand.  
  
I picked up a knife and stuck it into my old boot, tying up the boot a little tighter. I wasn't going to be as helpless as I felt.  
  
I smudged some dirt into my hair, a little grease at the top and brushed it in. Messing up my hair after that. I picked up the ends off the floor. No matter how many times I cut it, it always seemed to be sitting on the ground. I took my scissors and cut it to just above my butt, reminding myself of Mina. I messed up my hair a bit more and put some dirt on my arms and face. I certainly looked like someone out of the slums.  
  
Walking over to the edge of my balcony, I stared down into the gardens with a feeling of dread that had been building for days now. I knew, deep down that I was going to find exactly what I was suppose to be fighting against.  
  
I tugged on the rope one more time to make sure it was secure after all this time without use, then swung over and shimmied down towards the ground. Once there I checked for anyone around.  
  
Not a soul.  
  
I pulled the rope back so that it hung against the wall, and pushed a hidden button that had been installed back when my love had been alive, as had this personal form of escape. I could just hope it had been forgotten completely and not dissembled at the ground. When the rope disappeared into the wall I felt a ray of hope that lasted only a second, but it was worth it. The thought flashed through my mind that perhaps this was how my love had come to me those nights before, but as soon as it came it was gone. Taking a last look around, I ran hell bent through the gardens.  
  
Oddly feeling that I was mimicking my husband, I glanced about. And found that the rout he had taken was indeed the rout I took now.  
  
I softly clicked the door behind me, the outer wall now bypassed. I was free, outside the protection of crystal walls and armed guards. The world was real, I suddenly felt real. Life hadn't really been lived inside those walls, hadn't even really existed. But now, I was alive, I was living.  
  
Serena.  
  
I was my old self again. I was that little girl who loved bunnies and video games and life.  
  
I was happy.  
  
I felt joy.  
  
I took off at a steady pace towards the lights of the city. Though the light didn't seem to really reach the streets. This confused me. Hadn't the lights come from the streets and the roof tops? Why aren't the streets lit now?  
  
I felt melancholy, a wave of nausea roaming my insides. Life out here was all a show. Nothing had happened. I hadn't really helped at all. Nothing I had done in the past months really happened. It was all simply papers. Only words.  
  
They hadn't even really respected you.  
  
Everyone had simply strung me along. Like some simple puppet, some idiot under a crown.  
  
Anger.  
  
Furious Anger.  
  
I clenched my fists and began walking faster. I felt energized, like I could heal the world all over again. I could take on the world all by myself. Nothing would ever stop me from helping my people!! NOTHING!!!  
  
Crying.  
  
Someone was crying.  
  
No.  
  
A child was crying.  
  
I stopped my tirade dead. I listened ... to my left. My feet began moving before I even realized what I was doing. The crying got closer. I began to run, stopping only to listen for directions.  
  
A little girl, hair ragged and skin black with dirt. She couldn't be more than six. And she was stuck in the back of an alley, what looked like a gang closing in around her. Knives drawn, scowls on their faces. I heard one of them ask where her father was.  
  
"Stay away from her." My voice was unforgiving. I hardly recognized it myself, I had never heard such iciness in my own words. They turned to look at me, the biggest of them all speaking with an accent I had never heard before.  
  
"And who are you, little toy."  
  
Anger filled me once more, stronger than I had ever felt before.  
  
"Her mother." I didn't know what I was saying. I wasn't her mother! But it got their attention, no if-ands-or-buts about it.  
  
"Than you must know where her bastard father is, eh?" The shortest waved a knife in my face as he spoke, looking me up and down. Probably imagining me without my baggy shirt and tattered jeans.  
  
"Of course. But I won't tell you ... voluntarily." Their eyes lit with fire and passion. It seems I hadn't lost my touch, or my will to win after all.  
  
They advanced, I stood still.  
  
They drew their weapons, I remained unarmed.  
  
They licked their lips, I kept impassive.  
  
They attacked, I fought back instantly.  
  
Training whirled through my brain. Kicks went flying, punches cracked jaws, flips sent men flying into walls. Minutes passed and, when I should have tired, I felt more invigorated. They tried to fight back, but I had so many years up on them that it wasn't really a fight. I sent them off with a cold glare, reminding them of the consequences should they come back.  
  
The little girl, when I looked back, was hidden behind a corner of the wall. Her large eyes looked so much like mine, only they seemed to shine a reddish type color. Her dirty hair could have been black for as caked as it was in dirt. I kneeled down, offering a hand out to her.  
  
She stared at it like it would bite her if she touched it.  
  
"I won't hurt you. What's you name?"  
  
She took a few steps towards me and placed her tiny hand in mine.  
  
"Serena. It's my Mommy's name. But my Daddy calls me Rini." Her voice was tiny. Yet for someone as young as she certainly was, she spoke perfect grammar. Odd to see that in a little girl, but who was I ... to ... judge ...  
  
Serena?  
  
Mommy? 


	7. Chapter 7

Well, I have been very busy with my life lately and I know I havent updated in a very long time. So, I decided to give you two new chapters on this story. I have the chapters done, unedited but done, up till chapter ten. So I will try to edit them so that I can get the next three up. We'll just have to see..... Enjoy!  
  
The Living Dream  
  
By: Rena Cresten  
  
Chapter 7  
  
Rated: PG  
  
Disclaimer: I don't own the characters of Sailor Moon, don't claim to. I don't own Crystal Tokyo, don't claim that either. But the story itself is mine. So please don't use it for anything without asking me first.  
  
*****************  
  
She was an odd little girl. It seemed she was so much younger than I had first thought. But when I asked her age she said she was, oddly, ten years old. All I could think was the longer life spans must have continued through the generations.  
  
Remembrance.  
  
Did I know her? I held her hand a little tighter as she pulled me down the maze of darkening streets. People were dying on all sides of us, there was no food or clothing that was anything resembling healthy. There were children, elderly, and middle aged people strewn about in the havoc of grime.  
  
The smell was horrible, turning my stomach this way and that. No one noticed us pass, dealing with their own little problems in their own little worlds. And each corner we turned seemed to get worse. When I thought I could take no more, she stopped me in front of a run down little shack.  
  
I didn't want to be rude and just walk inside, so I stood just beyond the door as the little girl walked into the hut and called out softly. A man's voice replied and she shot back out of the door. I smiled at her and let her take hold of my hand again.  
  
"Daddy, this is the lady that saved me."  
  
I lifted my eyes from her to the door just in time to see midnight blue eyes and raven black hair emerge from the darkness.  
  
He kissed me again. Holding me closer, against him with not an inch of space between us. His lips were so warm. His embrace warmer. I felt myself melt into him, wanting nothing more than to stay in this moment forever.  
  
He leaned over to whisper in my ear, sweet words ringing true to my heart.  
  
"Miss ..."  
  
"Huh?"  
  
"Miss ..."  
  
I stirred slightly, waking from my dream with only the slightest start. Opening my eyes all I found was darkness and silhouettes.  
  
"Miss ..."  
  
I pushed myself up from what felt like a dirt floor and automatically hit my head on something hard. My hand flew to my head and I rubbed the slight bump that I found there. There was a dull throbbing from it, but I opened my eyes wide after blinking a few times.  
  
When I had gotten use to the dark, I took a quick look around. The little girl was next to me, staring at me with those similar eyes. She almost said something, her mouth opened and a breath was drawn, but someone coughed behind her and she quieted and backed off slightly.  
  
I tried to see further into the dark, toward the other figure in the room, but the dark was oppressive. Yet the voice was chilling. His voice. But it couldn't be him.  
  
"Why did you come back now?" He seemed to be accusing me.  
  
"What?!" I didn't understand what could make him so bitter towards someone he had never really met.  
  
I am Queen.  
  
That must be why. He's blaming me for trying to help the city now when I haven't for so long.  
  
"I'm sorry. I should have ..."  
  
"You shouldn't have come back. Ever. We don't need you. We've done everything without you, I've raised her this long without you, I don't need you now." He seemed to be getting even more angry.  
  
What?  
  
Raised her?  
  
"I think you have the wrong person. I don't know you, so I couldn't have come back. And your acting like this little girl is mine, and I don't have children. So whoever you are, you had better rethink what you just said." It came out a little harsher than I had hoped, but it certainly hit him. I could feel the air in the room change.  
  
A soft mumble was spoken to the little girl and she moved from my side, opening the rickety door to this shamble.  
  
Light flooded into the tiny home. Though it wasn't much light, in fact if I hadn't gotten use to this black the outside would seem dark, but it illuminated a large patch in the center of the floor. Into this beam of light the man stepped and I almost blacked out again.  
  
Darien?  
  
"What the ...?" I pulled back away from him, terror taking hold. "You look just like ..."  
  
He laughed then, laughed at me.  
  
"I have been here, in this place, since you left us nine years ago." He seemed as though it was amusing that I was scared of him.  
  
Wait.  
  
Nine years?  
  
"I was in the palace nine years ago. And twelve years ago. And one hundred years ago. I haven't had any children." I found myself wishing that I could run, wishing I could just get away from here, from him. He came closer to me and I cringed back, much the same as I had in the dream from the balcony. I felt the same fear.  
  
No.  
  
Not the same fear.  
  
I watched as he crouched near me and smiled darkly. His eyes, the deepest of midnight blue, were now black. His skin white, like he hadn't seen the sun in years. He looked the part of a ghost.  
  
"You can never escape what your fate will be. Lovers lost, families broken, the fall of an empire. Nothing can be held at bay, for your hand shall bring all prophecies to their climax. You and you alone. Remember that." With that he dispersed into dust.  
  
The little girl screamed and ran from the door, letting it close behind her, and tried to call her father back. Her little tears hit the ground with amazing force. Her tiny sobs made my heart break all over again. But I was too afraid to move, to comfort her.  
  
She will blame you.  
  
I felt my heart sink even further at the thought of her hating me. But to my surprise, she flung herself into my arms instead.  
  
"Mommy ..." She sobbed into my arms, and I found my fear draining into the back of my mind. My arms wrapped around her and pulled her closer, into my lap. I rocked her and whispered soothing words to her. She calmed down bit by bit, until I felt her relax so far that she fell asleep.  
  
A few moments later I lifted her into my arms and took her out of the tiny shack and into the starry night. As soon as we were out of the tiny wooden structure it fell to the ground, dust filling the air for a moment until everything settled into a heap.  
  
It was meant to be.  
  
I wasn't the type to believe in fate, or destiny. Even after being destined to love Darien, I believed that it wasn't really destiny but love that ran things. Love that drove the future and past.  
  
Now she needs love to live.  
  
I smiled to myself and carried her back towards the Crystal Tower. I would raise her as my daughter, she already thought I was her mother. And that did look like Darien, so he could be the father. There would be a few hitches, but I would just have to work them out. Just have to deal with whatever I was faced with.  
  
Now I had a kingdom to save, and a daughter to raise.  
  
Life has certainly gotten more interesting. 


End file.
